


look, the whole city's stopped for us

by moonseul



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Driving as Gay Awakening, First Kiss, Idols, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28504077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonseul/pseuds/moonseul
Summary: “Look at what you’re doing to me on manager-hyung’s car,” Jaemin teases, pointing to the six-seater mini van Jeno’s pressed him against.“This is so unsexy right now.”In which Jaemin learns how to drive, and Jeno learns he now has a thing for boys who can drive.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 266





	look, the whole city's stopped for us

**Author's Note:**

> 2021, aka the year i start to write more self-indulgent scenarios (๑✪ᆺ✪๑) something short to start the year off!   
>  title from baekhyun's [r u ridin'](https://youtu.be/LdBNIC4iQPo)?

In the winter, Jaemin learns to drive.

The intermittent snowfall in the first few weeks of winter makes it difficult to go biking. It’s cold, and even though Jaemin has a pair of gloves the rest of his body is still repulsed to the cold. 

“You could wear a ski mask,” Jeno suggests, but Jaemin had pouted, looking at Jeno like it was all his fault. Because it was.

“You don’t even have time to go biking,” Jaemin complains in return, sinking his weight onto his arms. He looks at him from where he is sitting on the living room floor, bowl of shrimp crackers in between his thighs. 

For another round of NCT U promotions, Jeno is kept busy with dance practices, recordings, and a whole other variety program. Jaemin, on the other hand, finally gets some well deserved rest.

“So, because Mister Jeno is now too busy for lonely Jaemin, lonely Jaemin has decided to go learn how to drive,” Jaemin feigns hurt, pointing a crooked shrimp cracker at Jeno.

It isn’t difficult for Jeno to get used to this routine, what with his new schedule and all. It runs almost in parallel with Jaemin’s, so much so he’d only occasionally catch a glimpse of the other a handful of times in a week. 

Jaemin’s presence, or the lack of it, hasn’t bothered him in the slightest. Or so he thought.

* * *

It’s a Monday afternoon in February when Jeno sees his manager swerve into the MBC parking lot. Uncharacteristic would be one of many words to describe it, because his manager was never usually late, and even if he were, he wouldn’t dare to drive that… recklessly. 

Jeno’s putting his airpods away when the car pulls up in front of him, and he’s almost prepared to comment on his manager’s driving when the passenger seat window winds down, and it’s not his manager but _Jaemin_. Jaemin, tipping his sunglasses down and looking at him from the driver’s seat of the six seater Kia.

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

* * *

“You’re joking,” Jeno says as soon as he gets into the passenger seat. 

“No I’m not, look,” Jaemin replies, pausing to rummage through the stack of papers he’d stuffed in the side door pocket. He plucks out a sheet of paper and thrusts it in Jeno’s face. “I got my license today.”

“That’s not a license,” Jeno corrects, squinting his eyes at the flimsy piece of paper.

“This paper right here says I’m licensed to drive, and that this will hence serve as my license until the card comes in the mail,” Jaemin says, shaking the piece of paper obnoxiously in front of Jeno, who then swats it away.

“You’re licensed to drive, and the first person you’re driving is me. We’re going to die, Na Jaemin. Ya!” Jeno exclaims, but it’s too late, because Jaemin’s already taken his foot off the brake.

“Tsk,” Jaemin grits, throwing Jeno a smirk. He manages a right turn out of the parking lot. “Smug of you to think you’re the first person I’m driving today.”

“Am I wrong?”

“There’s no fun in being correct all the time,” Jaemin chuckles, shaking his head. He stops the car at the exit, checks for any incoming cars, then swerves onto the main road. Jeno wishes he had two seatbelts.

“Manager-hyung said it was okay for you to pick me up?” Jeno asks in disbelief. It’s one thing for his manager to let someone else pick him up from his schedule. It’s another to just hand Jaemin the keys to the company car.

“I might have negotiated a deal,” Jaemin grins, all too self-satisfied. “And I had to promise not to take any highways. So. It’s going to be a long ride.”

Then, “Hey, put on some music, will ya?”

Jeno digs his phone out of his coat pocket. He puts on something he thinks Jaemin will like.

Eventually, Jeno loosens up. Ten minutes in Jaemin has demonstrated basic mastery of driving, so Jeno loosens his grip on the overhead handles and shrugs out of his padding. He throws a glance over to Jaemin, noting the way he bobs his head to the music, and realizes that this is the first time in months he’s taken a real good look at him.

He’s barefaced, the roughness of his skin showing under the sunlight that pours in whenever they pass in between buildings. His hair is undone, looking like he’s just rolled out of bed, and Jeno knows because he’s seen it one time too many. And even under all of this, he’s still pretty. Unfairly so. 

Jeno still doesn’t think it’s possible to get used to Jaemin with black hair. Not since Jaemin debuted had he kept it in his natural shade. Seeing Jaemin with black hair almost always brought him back to the time they were fourteen — nights spent lying down on the practice room floor, sleeping in bunk beds, and running away from their manager after getting caught binging on junk food at the convenience store downstairs. 

It reminded him of the time before all of this. 

It gave him a semblance of normalcy he tried to ignore.

“Where are we going?” He asks when Jaemin turns into Myeongdong.

“Shopping,” Jaemin answers. “Have you been listening to me at all?” 

He sneaks a glance at Jeno, who only returns him this bewildered look like he hasn’t heard a single thing he’s said in the past five minutes. “Jisung’s birthday is in two weeks.”

“Oh, right,” Jeno says absently, returning his gaze to the road ahead. 

When Jaemin pulls into the parking garage, he says, “Help me look out for a spot.” 

So that’s what Jeno does. He doesn’t look back at Jaemin until he realizes Jaemin’s found one on his own and is already putting the car in reverse. That’s when he sees it: Jaemin backing the car up with the parking ticket between his lips, one arm stretched out behind Jeno’s seat. 

The line of his jaw grows sharper as shadows bloom larger in the car, and for a moment he’s the only thing that Jeno can focus on.

Jaemin’s fully concentrated on parking the goddamn car, and all Jeno can think about, for the first time in his life, is how much he wants Jaemin, in a way that’s different from any way he’s wanted before. The realization hits him like a truck, and all Jeno can think is _oh no_.

* * *

Shopping for Jisung’s birthday gift passes in a blur. Jeno lets Jaemin make most of the decisions and lets Jaemin drag him through the department store. 

Really, because the only thing he remembers is being back in the car again when Jaemin’s driving them home, and it’s the sight of Jaemin making a three point turn in the garage that seals the deal for him.

* * *

“Are you okay?” He hears Renjun’s voice coming from behind him, and he rolls to his side to find him standing by his door.

“What?”

“You’ve been lying down like that for the past thirty minutes. I was wondering if something was wrong,” Renjun explains, walking into Jeno’s room. He navigates around the multiple bags Jeno’s left around on the floor, eventually finding a place to lean against by Jeno’s desk. He takes a sip from his cup of tea.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jeno says to himself, before shutting out the light with his hands over his eyes.

Renjun sets his cup down on Jeno’s desk. “Yeah, that doesn’t look like _nothing’s wrong_ to me. What’s on your mind?”

“Ugh,” Jeno groans. He really doesn’t want to talk about it. But if he keeps it in his head he knows he’ll be kept awake all through the night, and he’s kept awake much too long from his current schedule as it is. 

Jisung can’t keep a secret, and _Jaemin_ himself is the topic, so he’s out of the question. So, Renjun it is.

He cranes his head back to check if the coast is clear. “Wait, can you close the door first?”

Renjun grumbles, dragging himself to shut the door even though no one else is at home. 

“So, I’ve got a friend who has a problem,” he starts, before Renjun interrupts him with a pointed look on his face.

“No point being cryptic, Jeno, we all know you don’t have friends except us.”

Jeno waves it off. “Ok but hypothetically right, someone is having a problem.”

“I know you’re having the problem, you’re the one that’s acting strange,” Renjun sighs.

“Ok but let’s just say it’s someone,” Jeno’s voice grows louder, sounding increasingly aggravated.

Renjun sighs for what seems like the third time in two minutes. “If it makes you feel better speaking in third person then fine. _Someone_.”

“Right. So this friend of mine just had an epiphany.”

“An epiphany,” Renjun repeats.

“A life-changing realization,” Jeno explains. “A fundamental shift in this person’s worldview that has rendered him unable to function.”

Renjun stops him right there. “Ok Jeno, you’re starting to freak me out. Why are you even talking like this. Are you possessed?” He ambles over to where Jeno is lying on his bed, leans over to slap his cheek lightly once, twice for good measure. “Did you see God? A ghost?”

“No, it’s not about that. I’m being serious. It’s just, ugh,” Jeno groans, trying to find the words. What would be the best way to say: _I realized I have a thing for boys. One boy, in particular, and not anyone else_ . _The idea of him and I together keeps me on edge throughout the day. The idea of him and I not together keeps me wide awake at night_. God, he’s really become something else.

“I think I like someone,” Jeno finally admits.

“Oh,” Renjun lets out, unsurprised. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean that’s it? I like a boy.”

“So?”

“Isn’t that a big deal?” Jeno questions.

Renjun shrugs, looking away to give Jeno some space. He looks at Jeno’s wall decor, the twin bicycles hanging on his bedroom wall.

“Is it Jaemin?” He asks.

“What?” Jeno almost jumps out of his bed. “What makes you think it’s him?”

“Uh,” Renjun is smirking now, armed with months, no, _years_ of observed knowledge he’d accumulated just from living in the same dorm. “I’m not blind, Jeno. Like, do you even see what I’m seeing?” He makes a point to gesture towards the collective ten grand worth of bicycle equipment hanging on Jeno’s wall.

“Or how about this,” Renjun continues, stalking over to throw open Jeno’s closet doors unceremoniously. “The fact that you have matching clothes?” He says holding up four hoodies. 

“I… didn’t realize,” Jeno murmurs to himself, unable to conceal his own amazement. Had he liked Jaemin all this time? “Wait wait wait. When did you think I started liking him?”

“Uh, I dunno. Forever?” Renjun supplies unhelpfully. Jeno just flops back onto his bed, feeling like the world’s biggest fool.

Jeno wishes he could sink into his mattress.

“So you’re telling you’ve only realized you like him?” Renjun asks.

“Yep. Like, yesterday,” Jeno says, pulling his covers over his face. Through the fabric Renjun can hear Jeno grunt, “Fuck me.”

“I’d rather not.”

Jeno wiggles out from under his blanket. He gets onto his elbow and looks Renjun in the eye. “You know what did it for me? Jaemin driving. I didn’t even know I had a thing. But now I have a thing. It’s a big thing!”

Jeno’s nearly shouting at this point. Because how is he supposed to function around Jaemin now? Jaemin can so much as sit next to him and Jeno would feel his heart thumping in his chest. And what if Jaemin reached over and touched his thigh, like he usually does? If they’re in a recording and Jaemin does skinship for the cameras. Jeno would die.

“Why don’t you tell him then if it’s giving you so much grief?”

Jeno gives him a flat look. “I would die.”

Renjun picks up his tea and takes a long sip. “God, you’re so dramatic. You’re perfect for each other.”

* * *

“What was Renjun doing in your room?” Jaemin swings by Jeno’s open door right after Renjun walks out. 

This time, Jeno really falls out of his bed.

* * *

On one hand, promoting without Jaemin means that Jeno, now functioning after the realization that he has a crush on his best friend, does not have to deal with said best friend. Jeno does not see Jaemin in dance practice, in the dressing room, or in the company car.

On the other hand, promoting without Jaemin means Jeno never sees Jaemin, and it’s slowly killing whatever’s left of his concentration. 

When Jeno closes his eyes, he conjures up the image of Jaemin dancing in the studio mirror. He imagines, with explicit detail, the way Jaemin’s shirt sticks to his skin when he’s drenched in sweat. His wiry frame, lean musculature, clean lines that show through the holes of his muscle tank.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Haechan snickers, slapping Jeno awake. The car slows to a stop, and Jeno blinks himself awake.

“Got a little drool on your face, Jeno,” Haechan points out, before hopping out of the car.

Even in the dressing room when they’re putting on makeup Jeno allows himself to recall what it was like having Jaemin around. No one would bother him with petty slaps on his thigh, or pick food out of his bag like Jaemin usually does. Honestly, Jeno wishes he could return to the time of blissful ignorance, because he misses Jaemin so much now it’s getting on his nerves.

“Don’t look so sad, you’re going to see him at home,” Haechan says when he swings around where Jeno’s sitting by the snack table. He grabs a bottle of water and plops down next to Jeno.

Jeno snaps out of his reverie, startled. “See who?”

Haechan swallows his water and returns Jeno a nonchalant look. “Uh, Jaemin?”

“What?” Jeno says, all of a sudden feeling _seen_. A prickling heat rises up the back of his neck. “What makes you think I miss him?”

Haechan props his elbow onto his knee, looking at Jeno like he has something up his sleeve. “Gut feeling,” he explains, and then, “Also, you were saying his name in your sleep.”

* * *

As soon as Jeno complains he doesn’t see Jaemin around enough, Jeno begins to see Jaemin all the time, all of a sudden. 

Jaemin comes into his room at 1am with a pot of ramen, literally still in the pot, saying that he’s accidentally made too much. Jaemin jumps into Jeno’s bed uninvited, but not all unwelcome, and tickles Jeno until he has tears in his eyes. Jaemin also decides to pick Jeno up from all his personal schedules.

The devil works hard, but Na Jaemin works harder.

“You’re here again,” Jeno comments when he opens the passenger door and sees Jaemin sipping on a frappuccino. He’s got on an awful looking green bucket hat and a black fluffy v-neck sweater, one that reveals the delicate lines of his collarbone.

Jaemin scoffs. “You say that like you don’t like me picking you up.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut it,” Jeno retaliates weakly. He can’t deny what’s true. “What have I done to deserve you?” He asks jokingly, but doesn’t expect Jaemin’s sincerity in his response.

“I’d do anything for you, duh,” Jaemin says so easily, so effortlessly, and it for some reason instills in Jeno a degree of fear that _this_ means to Jaemin nothing like the way it means to him. 

He looks out at the long road ahead of them, at the tall, glass buildings in Gangnam that glistened in the flat light of the sun.

For a moment, Jaemin hesitates. “I mean, what else am I supposed to do with my license?” He taps his fingers restlessly on the wheel.

Jeno clears his throat, rasps: “I’d pick you up too, if I could drive.” He dares a glance at Jaemin, who has his eyes on the road. His lip tint has faded after sipping on his drink and are prettily plump. _I’d do anything for you too_ , Jeno thinks to himself, and forces himself to stop there.

* * *

“It’s here,” Jaemin barges into Jeno’s room on a Wednesday night. He’s holding an envelope, its edges jagged from being ripped open with fingers, and he’s unveiled his license.

“Lemme see,” Jeno says and extends his hand with a pincer motion. “Give it here.”

He squints at the card, and at Jaemin’s stupidly perfect face.

“You look like you don’t believe you passed,” Jeno jokes, and Jaemin slumps against him laughing. Jeno feels the shake of his shoulders.

“Believe me, I was shocked,” Jaemin says. “You should’ve been there.”

“Yeah,” Jeno replies. “Would’ve loved to see you fail.”

“Tsk,” Jaemin shoves Jeno over in a wrestle. He’s grown stronger over the years, but his boyish face hasn’t changed. Not Jaemin’s wolfish smile, wide and white teeth that shine moon bright when his body hovers over him. “Oh yeah? Says the guy who falls asleep when I drive. I’d say you’d trust me with your life if you’re doing that.”

_I do_ , Jeno agrees internally, and maybe that’s what sets it off — the rush of panic that sweeps over him, causing him to push Jaemin off. Because he’s suddenly too close, too close. Jeno takes a deep breath.

“Hey, you like driving right? Wanna get out of here?”

* * *

Jaemin borrows (begs for) their manager’s car keys, and then they’re off on the road.

It’s close to midnight and the streets are almost empty, save for the occasional passing car. Jaemin navigates through the streets without a GPS. He’s driving straight to the Han river, a frequent haunt he knows the route to by heart.

The car turns into the parking lot, a small probe in the darkness. He parks right by the edge, so that right through the window Jeno can see the glimmering reflection of the water on the sides of the tall glass buildings, and the opalescent moon peeking from above the skyscrapers.

“We’re here,” Jaemin announces, pulling the keys out of the ignition. The car descends into a quiet like inside a vacuum. Jeno clicks open the side door and jumps out.

“You okay?” Jaemin asks, falling in place beside him. They walk towards the river’s edge. All of summer and autumn they’d rode through the same gravel path from east to west. Now, in the winter, the snow-dusted paths seemed so foreign. “You didn’t say anything the whole ride here.”

Jeno wrings his hands on the parapet handles. The cool metal sends chills up his skin.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” he says. Inside, there is a turmoil of emotions racing through his mind. It becomes hard to feel so much.

Jaemin lets a few moments pass. He looks down at the water, the waves upon waves splashing against the concrete embankment. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Jaemin murmurs. 

Jeno clamps his lips tightly closed, forcing his breath to steady.

“Why?” Jaemin asks again.

Jeno releases a slow exhale, a cloud of white vapor leaving his lips.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” he denies. “I’ve been seeing you every single day.”

Jaemin sagged his weight on one arm, turning now towards Jeno. “Uh, you’ve been seeing me every day because I come to bother you every day. But you don’t come to my room anymore. Or text me first,” he states plainly, and then, in a way that makes Jeno’s heart falter: “Are we still best friends?”

“Of course we are,” Jeno spits out, looking away with anger building in his veins. 

“Then why do you sometimes look like you don’t want to be around me?”

Jeno stared out at the vast darkness beneath his fingertips, a single thought dominating his awareness.

_Because you drive me insane_ , Jeno wants to say.

_Because you are my best friend, I’ve been in love with you forever, and I’m angry that I’m going to have to hide it for the rest of my life._

He grabs Jaemin by the collar and pulls him so close he feels like Jaemin _must_ understand, and Jaemin doesn’t push him away, doesn’t tense. He just stands there and it feels like he’s willing to get hit, if it would make Jeno feel better.

Frustrated, Jeno releases him, almost too violently, and runs back to the car.

Behind him, he hears the whip of gravel, feet against dirt. Jaemin meets him back at the car and grabs him by the arm.

“You asshole, what was that for?” He grits, eyes as wild as his hair, now tousled from running in the wind.

Why must Jaemin put him through this? Jeno groans. Tries to shake off Jaemin’s vice grip.

Jaemin wants to understand? So here:

“I like you,” Jeno spits out, making eye contact. 

Jaemin’s got a confused look on his face, like he’s just suffered from whiplash. “What- yeah, I like you too, you’re my best friend.”

Best friend this, best friend that. Jeno pulls Jaemin over and presses him against the hood of his car. A thigh shoved between his, lips against lips, just so Jaemin can understand. 

He’s expecting Jaemin to fight against him, because he doesn’t want _this_ , but then Jaemin parts his lips, relaxes against Jeno just so.

It freaks Jeno out, and he jumps back, face flushed. “What-”

“Are you freaking kidding me right now?” Jaemin scoffs, shaking his head. “All this buildup, and you’re the one backing off?”

Now it’s Jeno’s turn to be confused because he’s pretty sure Jaemin doesn’t think of him as more than a friend. And yet.

“Lee Jeno, I like you so much,” it comes out low like a whisper. “You’re my best friend and everything more,” he says so surely it makes Jeno’s throat dry.

He takes a good look at Jaemin. Here, the starlight’s displaced just enough of the night to reveal the glint in his eyes. The wide, feral grin that graces his lips just as he pulls Jeno back in.

This time, Jeno does it gently. He tilts his head and meets Jaemin’s lips slowly, registering his warmth, the softness of his lips, the way static rasps underneath his fingertips as he slips his hands under Jaemin’s sweatshirt and grazes the boy’s skin.

Jaemin gives his bottom lip a playful bite, letting loose a quiet, self-satisfied chuckle. One Jeno’s heard his whole lifetime, and hopefully more. He leans back in to close the gap. Jaemin has his arms wound around Jeno’s neck, and he tugs on his own sleeves to pull Jeno closer. 

Jeno feels Jaemin’s hair on his face. It’s ticklish. It’s dizzying. It doesn’t at all feel real.

The whole world could slip away, and it’ll be okay. There would be a day when Jeno would have to stop singing and dancing — eventually he knows it will all come to end — but he thinks about having Jaemin there. Jaemin’s always been there. To think otherwise was foolish.

Jeno’s arms are wound around Jaemin’s small waist, and he marvels at how well they fit together. He should have known. His ghost touches send shivers down Jaemin’s spine, and when they slip beneath the waistband of his boxers Jaemin _yelps_.

“Lee Jeno,” he scolds, scandalized. 

“Look at what you’re doing to me on manager-hyung’s car,” he teases, pointing to the six-seater mini van Jeno’s pressed him against. “This is so unsexy right now.”

“Why you,” Jeno grumbles, then wrestles the boy down so his back is against the hood. “He should’ve known as soon as he gave you the keys.”

A blush blossoms up Jaemin’s cheeks, rose pink. He looks at Jeno like he’s the only thing that matters, and Jeno feels like he’s going to cry.

* * *

Later, when they’re nestled in the back seat of the mini van, Jeno asks, “Have you always known?”

“Known that I like you?” Jaemin asks. He rubs the inside of Jeno’s thumb softly.

“Yeah,” Jeno breathes. He burrows his head further into the crook of Jaemin’s neck. 

“I had… an inkling,” Jaemin says. “It helped that I overheard Renjun tell Haechan that you think I look hot when I drive.”

“God dammit Renjun,” Jeno curses. 

“Thank you Renjun,” Jaemin says at the same time.

“I guess we each learnt something this year. You learnt how to drive, and I learnt that I can’t trust anybody in this goddamn household,” Jeno says. He’s smiling so widely it’s starting to hurt.

Jeno smiles, his body buzzing with warmth.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way though,” Jaemin says, tightening his grip on their interlaced fingers. 

“Yeah,” Jeno returns a firm squeeze. “I wouldn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> the fic is retweetable [here](https://twitter.com/refois/status/1345543568262270976?s=20)! i am open to any and all sorts of headcanons/discussions :3c   
>  [twt](https://twitter.com/refois) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/refois)


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